


Fairy Tale Ending

by inkandpaperhowl



Category: Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Abuse, Gen, Roshone is not a nice person basically, rape implied?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 00:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1877862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandpaperhowl/pseuds/inkandpaperhowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laral dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fairy Tale Ending

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to apologize for any noncompliance with canon…I honestly never really thought much of Laral before now, so didn’t pay much attention. I’m pretty sure that she’s betrothed to Roshone at some point in WoK, which leads one to assume that they are married by WoR? I live in hope that Kaladin will return to Hearthstone just in time to object at their wedding, like a cheesy romcom. 
> 
> Erm…abuse cw? Roshone is not a nice person? yeah.
> 
> Author suggests that you do not listen to “A Little Fall of Rain" while reading this. It will only make it worse. 
> 
> (Also on Tumblr: http://ladyknightradiant.tumblr.com/post/90037752759/)

Laral still thinks about him sometimes, the little darkeyed boy with the serious face. She doesn’t remember that she used to be just as little as him. In her memories, he is always eleven, and she is always as she is now, older, wiser…maybe not wiser. Maybe just tired. Roshone doesn’t let her sleep much. She naps in the afternoons when he’s out hunting or takes the carriage through the village. She hates to give up the hours when he’s not there, but some days, she can’t keep her eyes open. 

She thinks about Kal a lot at night. She wonders if he would have been gentle. His hands were always so steady and nimble and kind. He was so kind. They were going to be married, once, a long time ago. She smiles when she thinks about this, and Roshone slaps her while grinning back. She grimaces and he laughs. That’s how it always is. 

Sometimes she wonders what her life would have been like if she had been born a darkeyes, instead. She probably would have been nicer to Kal. She wonders how much of this would never have happened. Surely, Roshone would not have looked twice at her. But it doesn’t matter, because she was born as she is, and nothing can change that. She might have married Kal, though, might have actually gone through with it, if she were a darkeyes. If she thinks too much about this, she cries. 

She likes to pretend that one day he will come rescue her. She saw his eyes when he picked up that spear, even though he hadn’t a clue how to wield it. He was in the army now, though, and surely they would have taught him. She dreams that he will come swooping back home in a rush of victory and righteous anger at what Roshone has done to her, and he will use his newfound skills to save her. She pretends he will whisk her away from this crem-filled town and they will marry in Kholinar and live happily together. Or maybe Kharbranth. He was always meant to go to Kharbranth. She could be happy as a surgeon’s wife just as well as a soldier’s wife. Maybe when he rescued her from Roshone, he would also rescue some of Roshone’s money and they would go to Kharbranth, and he would study to be a surgeon and she would scribe for him. Sometimes she would laugh bitterly, especially if it had been a particularly good dream.

She visited his family once after he left. One of Amaram’s messengers came to Roshone’s house with a letter and small jar of ashes. Laral listened from the dark hallway outside her husband’s office, praying to the Almighty with every fibre of her being that it wasn’t Kal in that jar. She let out an explosive sigh of relief when she heard the name  _Tien_  instead of Kaladin, but her relief was temporary and she felt awful for rejoicing at the death of his little brother, even if it did mean that he was alive. 

Roshone called for the carriage and for Laral, and they descended on the surgeon’s house in a highstorm of arrogance and gloating and mock-sympathy. Laral was ashamed. Hesina saw her tears, though, and there was a glimmer of forgiveness in her eyes. The next afternoon, when Roshone was hunting, Laral went to visit Hesina properly, to give her the letter from the battlefield, to apologize, to hold her while they cried. Lirin had locked himself in his surgery, and the two women could hear the sounds of drunken rage. He did not emerge until after Laral had left. 

She hopes that now that he has nothing keeping him in the army, Kal will return to her. She pretends that he does not have to follow orders, forgets that he has superiors and obligations and a contract to fulfill. He no longer has to protect Tien, and she hopes this means he will come back and protect her. 

Years pass, and she realizes how stupid this all is. She tries to stop dreaming of him, but the memory of his long, gentle hands and his dark, serious eyes are the only thing that gets her through the nights, and though she pretends that she has forgotten all about him, she occasionally cries. But only when it rains. 

When he does arrive, it’s in a flurry of glowing stormlight and bad news. He’s been home four days—reuniting with his parents, sharing grief with them for Tien and happiness for his new powers and anger and sadness for all he has suffered since he left home—four days before Laral knows he’s arrived. She feels a stab of betrayal at this, and knows it’s irrational and ridiculous. He was meant to come back for her, but of course, all he remembers of her is the girl who rejected him, and why should he come back for her? Isn’t she happy in her life as the citylord’s wife? Surely, any darkeyes would think so. Most of the town thinks so. But still. That he returned home but didn’t think to tell her hurts like a thousand knives. 

He confronts Roshone at a town meeting he called. The citylord doesn’t even deign to step out of his carriage, even after Kaladin reveals that he is a Knight Radiant now, that the Knights Radiant have returned, that the voidbringers have returned and brought a new storm with them. Roshone scoffs when Kaladin begs him to protect the town. 

For the first time, Laral speaks up. She’s surprised at her own voice pleading with Roshone to listen. She’s not surprised when he hits her and she falls back into the carriage, her lip bleeding. She sees the corners of Kaladin’s mouth turn down and a spark of childish hope bubbles up in her. Here is her rescue. He did come to save her. He might not have meant to, but he’s going to do it anyway. 

His spear—a massive glowing weapon that sometimes fades into smoke around the edges—descends to rest it’s tip against Roshone’s arm, still raised from the followthrough of his slap. The town gasps. Laral stands as Roshone—at spear point—steps down from the carriage to allow her to pass. “You will not touch her again,” Kal is saying, but this isn’t her little Kal, her serious childhood friend. He shines, and it’s beautiful. She is like a moth drawn to his flame, and she forgets Roshone and all he’s done to her to move toward this hero, this knight, this radiant champion. 

Roshone draws his sword just as she steps forward, and the thrust aimed for Kaladin ends abruptly between her shoulders. She cries out not in pain but in anger. He saved her after all. This wasn’t how the stories ended. He saved her, and they were meant to live blissfully in Kharbranth from now until the end of days. He cradles her head in his lap as she chokes out her last few breaths, and his tears land on her cheeks. Perhaps it wasn’t a perfect rescue, she thinks, but it’s not so bad, really. He did come back for her, after all, and that was as far as most of her dreams had ever gotten. 


End file.
